


I'd Never Let You Fall

by DistractedSiren



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hilda/Marianne, Lorenz/Leonie, Lysithea/Mercedes, M/M, Pre and Post Time Skip, Some angst, Spoilers, Spoilers for the Golden Deer Route, Sylvain/Felix - Freeform, almost everybody to be honest, and everyone knows it but him, claude is an idiot in love, friends-to-lovers, kind of spoilers for the Blue Lions route, minor pairings: - Freeform, mostly war related
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 16:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20530970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedSiren/pseuds/DistractedSiren
Summary: “Stop mooning,” Hilda whispered. “You look like a love-struck schoolboy.”Claude flashed her a smirk. “Jealous?”He’d anticipated her answering eye roll, but it made him chuckle nevertheless.





	I'd Never Let You Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing. Just adding to canon a bit, I guess, by adding scenes between the Deer and others at various points throughout the game. Mostly them knowing Claude is in love with Byleth WAY before he does, while at the same time being completely clueless about their own love lives. Takes place pre-and-post time skip, spoilers for the GD route and a little bit for the BL route!
> 
> Title comes from the song "Have Faith In Me" by A Day To Remember.

He hadn’t expected to _like_ Byleth.

The plan had been to _use_ her, especially after he’d witnessed how the Sword of the Creator had come alive in her hands. That had been unexpected: Claude had rather hoped he’d be able to wield it himself, once found, but he was willing to adapt. He was good at adapting—that was how you stayed alive in a place like Almyra. It was the only way you stayed alive, especially when you had blood ties to the royal family.

And it didn’t take long before adapting his schemes had seemed like an improvement to the original plan. She was unrivaled when fighting, he could see that. He’d even come to depend on her, to trust her instincts and respect her cool command when on the battlefield. Whenever they were engaged against an enemy, she seemed to be able to read his mind—or maybe he was reading hers—and that synchrony had brought them to victory time and time again.

But liking her? Liking her had never been a part of his plans.

He considered her now, bathed in the multicolored light streaming down from the cathedral’s stained glass windows. It was a saint’s day, and all the residents of Garreg Mach had gathered for the celebration mass. Nearly everyone was watching Lady Rhea as she led them in a hymn of thanksgiving, and he used the opportunity to study his professor without being observed himself. Byleth was watching Rhea too, but she wasn’t singing the hymn and her expression wasn’t one of blind devotion. He could appreciate that about her.

Frankly, he was starting to appreciate too much about her.

A sharp elbow in the ribs startled his attention away from her, and he glanced down into Hilda’s too-shrewd eyes. The look she gave him was pointed, almost annoyed, and he felt his face relaxing into his charming mask almost unconsciously.

“Stop mooning,” Hilda whispered. “You look like a love-struck schoolboy.”

He flashed her a smirk. “Jealous?”

He’d anticipated her answering eye roll, but it made him chuckle nevertheless. She fixed him with an unimpressed stare.

“Hardly, but you’re giving Princess Edelgard far too much ammunition. And other people are starting to notice the way you look at her, too. She’s our _professor_, not our peer.”

He shrugged, but something churned uncomfortably in his stomach. “I’m not mooning, I’m planning_._”

“You’re always planning.” Hilda glanced over at Byleth as well, her expression thoughtful. “And I know she’s a bit mysterious, but…she was a merc, Claude. She’s bound to notice when someone is trying to manipulate her for their own ends. And she seems pretty immune to charm—even yours. So if you want her help with whatever it is you’re planning for the future of the Alliance, you’re better off being up front with her about it.”

Claude frowned down at her. He forgot, no doubt as she always meant for people to forget, how astute Hilda could be. While people were writing her off as lazy and silly, she was watching. And what she saw, she saved for future use.

_She may have a point_, he thought as he turned his gaze to Lady Rhea. As he settled back into the attitude of complacent piety, he considered the fallout of sharing with Byleth the true extent of his ambitions for Leicester, Fódlan, and Almyra. But that wasn’t what truly bothered him, and it couldn’t distract him either. The fact was, good ol’ Teach there was starting to work her way under his skin and he had no idea what to do about it.

* * *

The first time he saw an emotion cross their professor’s face, it was despair, and it was on behalf of a little girl. Flayn’s disappearance had everyone whispering secret suspicions and wild speculations, and even the eternally-stoic Byleth seemed genuinely distressed.

“She’s alive, Teach,” he told her, though the words were hollow: he didn’t want to hold out much hope himself, in case they discovered the worst.

Byleth looked up at him. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to; he could read the turmoil in her gaze and knew his mirrored her own.

“We must find her,” was all she said.

Determination hardened his voice. “We will.”

* * *

They did find her, in an outcome both better and worse than he’d expected.

What Claude hadn’t anticipated was for Byleth to lead the rest of the Golden Deer down into whatever awaited beyond the hidden passage in Jeritza’s room.

He and Professor Hanneman were doing their best to stabilize Professor Manuela after he’d sent Cyril scrambling off to search for Mercedes or Lady Rhea. Manuela was going to need their skill in healing magics, as neither he nor Hanneman were skilled white mages. That was when Raphael burst into the infirmary with Flayn and another redheaded girl in his arms.

Fear, cold and paralyzing, jolted down Claude’s spine as his classmate explained how the Deer were exploring the secret passage beneath Jeritza’s room. How the Death Knight was there, taunting Byleth and the others into an assault. Surely Teach wouldn’t fall for something like that? But Raphael insisted that their peers were in fact making their way through the maze toward the Knight even as they spoke, and another icy wave of fear crashed over Claude as he listened.

“Professor Hanneman—” he started, turning toward the older man.

“Say no more,” the professor replied. “Go lend your aid, and good luck. I’ll inform Lady Rhea of what is happening.”

Claude made a gesture to Raphael, and the pair began racing back through the monastery toward Jeritza’s quarters. They were just turning down the long corridor that led to his room when they spotted the Deer staggering out into the lane. They looked weary and disturbed, but no one appeared to be seriously injured. Claude noticed all of this even as his eyes flicked through the students in search of—

_Teach._

She was okay. Bleeding a little, but whole, and with an undeniable look of frustration in her eyes. Claude blew out a breath he hadn’t meant to hold in the first place and let his feet carry him to her side.

“The Death Knight got away,” she said, the dissatisfaction evident in her tone.

“But Flayn and that other girl are safe. You got there in time. That’s what really matters,” he told her, trying to ignore a sense of vast relief as he realized that she—no, that they were all—safe.

“I wonder,” she replied, sounding unconvinced. Before she could elaborate, the Knights of Seiros arrived at last. Their conversation about the events of the day would have to wait, but her words made him pause…had they gotten there in time? Or was something entirely more sinister going on?

* * *

The Battle of the Eagle and Lion was fast approaching. Byleth had gamely been going along with the traditional pre-battle bluster, occasionally even shocking her students and fellow professors with a witty retort as the climate of friendly rivalry began to peak toward the end of the month. But though her dark eyes gleamed at the mention of the competition, Claude couldn’t help but notice that there was something else on her mind. Sometimes she seemed to pause and go blank, like she was listening to something no one else could hear. And though he knew she’d gone to Rhea for some explanation about her connection to the Sword of the Creator, she hadn’t seemed to have received much in the way of answers. It must be frustrating for her, he mused. Or maybe it was just frustrating for _him_.

He forced himself to stop the relentless flood of questions that plagued him and did his best to stay focused on class, but the answers he’d been hoping to find at the monastery were proving to be more elusive than he’d planned, and Teach was far more distracting than she had any right to be. There was altogether too much to think about, on top of tactics and training and battles, and he felt raw with the frustration of it all.

_Patience_, he reminded himself. He was usually so good at being patient. He liked to see how things played out, how events could be nudged in his favor. But there was a tangible feeling of time running out, of something beginning to spiral out of control just under the placid surface of life-as-usual, and his hackles felt like they were constantly on the rise as a result.

And whatever it was, he could tell that Byleth could sense it too.

He was walking through a courtyard toward the reception hall when their paths crossed, and before he’d quite realized what he was agreeing to, she was whisking him off for tea. They walked together toward the Golden Deer’s classroom, with him keeping up a constant, charming stream of conversation to mask the way his mind was racing. What was _wrong_ with him? No one else unnerved him this way. No one else was so hard to read. He prided himself on seeing and understanding people’s unspoken motives, their ambitions, and using that knowledge to his advantage. But Teach? She didn’t seem to want anything from anyone. She played her cards so close to her chest that he wasn’t even sure what the game was anymore. It was maddening. And strangely—perhaps dangerously—thrilling.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, gesturing to the table where she’d laid out the tea things. A familiar scent caught his attention and he shot her a playful look.

“Why Teach, what underhanded methods did you have to employ to find out Almyran Pine is my favorite tea?”

She speared him with a mock-serious gaze. “My spies are everywhere,” she deadpanned. He laughed.

“So you asked Hilda?”

Warmth and amusement bloomed in her eyes as they indulged in this rare, two-sided banter—normally the teasing all came from him. “I asked Hilda,” she confirmed, and he shot her a fond grin as they took their seats.

Oh yes, he liked her. He liked her a lot, but that didn’t have to complicate things. Did it?

He lifted the steaming teacup to his face and breathed in, attempting to let the familiar scent soothe him. It felt like his nerves had been jangling since he’d met Jeralt and Byleth, and while a tea break was generally relaxing, his proximity to Teach and the fact that they were totally alone was doing strange things to his heart rate.

“You’re either trying to get something out of me or you’re about to give me bad news,” he commented. “Which is it?”

But Byleth shook her head, her dark eyes soft. “You seem tired. Exhausted, to be more exact. I thought…I thought the quiet would be nice. And I’m tired too,” she admitted as an afterthought. “Recent events have left me feeling…anxious, I suppose is the best word for it…but I know I can trust you when I’m showing weakness. The others…”

“Yeah.” He set his cup down and studied her more closely. “If they saw you looking discouraged or upset, it would definitely worry them. We all rely on you, Teach.” He paused. “Perhaps too much.”

She shook her head again in response. “No. I rely on you all too. It’s a nice feeling.”

His heart thumped hard.

“I also wanted to thank you, Claude.” Byleth stirred her tea and took a sip. It seemed like a play for time, as though she needed a moment to choose her words. Was that because of him, or because she was unused to socializing in general?

“Well, I know it’s hardly gracious but I’m not modest enough to turn down thanks…may I ask what are you thanking me for, exactly?” he asked.

Byleth tilted her head, considering him over the rim of her teacup.

“When I took this job, I knew I wasn’t well suited for it. I’m not used to being around people, and I’ve never taught anything to anyone before in my life. I knew that if I was going to have any success, I would need someone that could shore up my weaknesses, someone that could help me communicate effectively with the others. You stepped in effortlessly, smoothing every interaction, even with the other houses. I doubt I’d be very good at this job, if it weren’t for your assistance.”

Her eyes lingered on his face. He must look a little stunned, but for once he was having trouble schooling his face back into charming impassivity. He did manage, after a moment, to flash her a roguish smirk. “Ah, so you were _using _me. Well, I suppose I’m the last person that should complain about that.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You _are_ my resident schemer. Our resident schemer,” she corrected, gesturing around the empty classroom.

“Oh, I dunno Teach…I like the sound of being yours,” he told her with a wink.

He supposed he deserved the biscuit to the face he got in retaliation for that response. He was still chuckling about it when they bid each other goodbye and resumed their separate duties. In retrospect, he should have recognized he was already doomed, but at the time he was still certain he was in complete control of the situation.

The other Deer, of course, knew better.

* * *

“You weren’t really interested in the prize,” Byleth commented as their horses walked side-by-side down the road leading back to Garreg Mach. Claude shot her a wink, thinking their victory at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion sat very well on her.

“Oh, I was interested in a prize alright, just not the one Rhea was offering,” he replied. He glanced back over his shoulder at the rest of the Deer. They were all riding behind their leaders, reliving the most thrilling parts of the battle and planning their grand celebration feast. Every one of them was smiling, laughing, confident. Even Marianne and Ignatz were eagerly participating, eyes shining with the thrill of victory.

“_That’s _my prize, Teach. They’ve come a long way these past few months, and it’s all thanks to you.”

Byleth looked amused. “That’s awfully humble of you.”

He covered his heart with his hand, putting on his best scandalized face. “Why, Teach, surely you don’t mean to suggest that I’m the type to take all the credit?”

She laughed—truly _laughed_—for the first time since they’d met. And when she turned that radiant smile his way, a wave of affection for her crashed over him.

And that was when he knew, when he realized beyond a shadow of a doubt that, plans or no plans, he liked Teach. _Really_ liked her. And that was going to complicate _everything._

* * *

Things did get complicated, but in ways Claude failed to anticipate. The sickness (if it was a sickness, and he had his doubts on that score) in Remire village was troubling, and so was the news that Byleth and Jeralt would be the ones to investigate. Manuela had offered her support as well, leaving his Teach adorably flushed for an hour after their meeting with Lady Rhea. He spent an amusing few minutes teasing her about it, but his troubles remained. Byleth seemed to sense his unease.

“Claude.” She placed a hand on his arm. “My father and I have a debt to the people of Remire.”

“I know.” He was looking at her hand. She touched people so rarely… His eyes found her face once more, and he gave her a half-smile. “I owe them a debt too, you know.”

Byleth blinked in surprise at that. “You do?”

“Sure I do.” His grin widened until it was stretched across his whole face. “Remire is where I met _you_.”

Byleth’s flush returned in full force at his words. He waved a languid hand and continued before she could compose herself.

“And since that _is_ the case, you really should let me come along, Teach.”

“Lucky for you,” she replied, “Lady Rhea has already tasked us all with the investigation.” But she looked a little distressed by that. He saw her catch her lip in her teeth.

“We’ve been in danger before,” he reminded her. “What’s different this time?”

“If one of the students becomes infected…”

“We’ll have Professor Manuela with us. We’ll be fine, Teach.”

She nodded and he placed his hand over hers on his arm. He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. Then he excused himself and made his way to the library, his mind buzzing with the possible causes of this mysterious illness, but also with the memory of her touch.

* * *

Remire was utterly destroyed. Claude was proud of their efforts to save the townsfolk, but the day’s grim work and grimmer revelations weighed heavy on them all.

The class paused with Jeralt before they left, looking back at the shattered buildings that had once been a lively little town. Jeralt was frowning as he watched the smoke billow into the evening sky. Claude stood on his left, Byleth on his right. The Captain glanced at his daughter and sighed.

“This is far from over.”

Byleth nodded, her eyes still on the flames.

“I wonder…” Claude mused. “I don’t think Tomas has been Tomas for a long time.”

“What did he call himself? Solon?” Jeralt shook his head. “I’ve never heard of him before.”

“It doesn’t matter who he is,” Byleth said, her voice cold. “We must stop him.”

Claude leaned forward to meet her gaze across Jeralt’s wide chest. “We will, Teach,” he promised. “Together.”

Jeralt shot him an indecipherable look which he chose to ignore for the time being. Behind them, the rest of the Deer gathered up their weapons and supply packs and turned to go. Claude held Byleth’s gaze for one more long moment before turning to follow suit.

It was a quiet journey back to the monastery.

* * *

A week watched Ignatz and Marianne from a tower window. They were just outside the monastery: the archer was painting and the white mage had a book, and they were seated together in a patch of sunshine. Their comfort, the way they sat just a little too close to one another, left him feeling a little wistful.

“I didn’t peg you as a romantic,” came a voice from behind him. He spun around and came face to face with Lysithea. She looked torn between amusement and impatience. “What is with everyone? I’ve seen a lot of the students pairing off lately.”

“I suppose it has something to do with the fact that the annual ball is in a few weeks.” Claude turned fully away from the window. “No doubt you’re too young to worry about potential dates just yet,” he added with a wink.

Lysithea flushed, her brows drawn tight over furious eyes. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean? I’m not that much younger than you, and I already _have _a date, I’ll have you know!”

Claude laughed and lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, alright. Point taken. Who is this date of yours, hmm? Should I ask them what their intentions are?”

“You’re impossible.” Lysithea’s fingers twitched as though she’d like to start throwing fireballs at him, but she managed to stay in control. She turned her face away and said, more quietly, “I’m going with Mercedes.”

“No need to ask her what her intentions are, then, Mercedes wants the best for everyone.” Claude resisted the urge to ruffle the younger girl’s hair. “She’s sweet, I’m sure you’ll have a good time together.”

“Thank you, I think so too—wait, I didn’t come here to talk about the ball with you!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “How do you always do that? I came to tell you that Sylvain just asked the professor to go with him.”

Claude frowned. “She can’t, he’s a student.”

“Well, _duh._ But he did anyway.” Lysithea was now watching him very closely. “And he keeps inviting her to dinner, too.”

The urge to shift uncomfortably was almost impossible to ignore, but he forced himself to stay relaxed, to keep the easy smile on his face. “I doubt he’ll get very far with Teach. She doesn’t seem too hung up on romance, does she?”

“Still, I thought maybe you should have a word with him.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Why me?”

Lysithea rolled her eyes at him. “You really are hopeless, aren’t you? Never mind, if you don’t mind that idiot hitting on our professor, neither do I.”

With that, she flounced out of the room with her chin in the air, but not before Claude heard her muttering something about him being stubborn and childish.

* * *

Incidentally, he _did_ mind. In fact, he was starting to mind very much. Every time he caught sight of Sylvain bowing over Byleth’s hand or trapping her in a corner for a quiet word, Claude felt his shoulders tighten with anxiety. He tried to ignore it, but suddenly his red-headed classmate was everywhere the professor was.

_You’ve got bigger fish to fry, _he reminded himself. Whenever Sylvain appeared, he forced himself to think of the future he was planning, not just for the Alliance, but for Fódlan and Almyra too. That was what should be occupying all of his thoughts, guiding his every action during his time at the Officers Academy. But he couldn’t stop his gut from clenching every time the young noble drew a smile from her.

_What is he saying to her? _Claude wondered as he spotted Sylvain speaking with Byleth in the dining hall. Hilda and Lysithea exchanged glances, both looking exasperated. He ignored them and turned his eyes to Raphael.

“Didn’t you have a question for Teach, Raph?” he asked, proud of how casual his voice sounded. “She just came in.”

“Oh, right! Thanks, Claude.” Raphael leapt up from the table and barreled over to Byleth, full of questions for how best to secure supply lines in enemy territory, in order to make sure there was always plenty of food available for an army on the march.

“Oh, well done, Claude.” Hilda sat back in her chair and clapped. “Very well orchestrated. Totally not obvious.”

He flicked a carrot at her. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Sure you don’t,” she replied with a knowing smirk.

“What _do _you mean?” Ignatz asked, clearly baffled by this exchange.

“Oh, Ignatz,” Hilda said with a fond sigh. “You really are too precious.”

He frowned a little and turned to Marianne beside him. “What does she mean?” he whispered to her, and Marianne replied that she’d tell him later as Hilda giggled at them both. Leonie shook her head at their antics.

“I don’t see why Sylvain keeps bothering her. She’s pretty but she’ll never be as good a fighter as Captain Jeralt, and she’s so…stoic.”

“Oh, Sylvain isn’t really interested in her,” Marianne said. Everyone’s eyes turned to her, and she blinked back at them all in surprise. “Didn’t you know? He likes someone else.”

“But then, why would he keep asking our professor—?” Leonie started, but Marianne only shook her head.

“It’s not my secret to tell,” she said, quiet but firm, and then she excused herself and left the table with Ignatz following close behind.

* * *

The thing was, Claude had never been able to resist a secret. He waited until Marianne was alone, reading a spell book in library, before he pounced.

“I told you, Claude, it isn’t my secret and I don’t think—” she said when he brought it up. He gritted his teeth and hurried to interrupt her.

“I’ll keep it to myself, Marianne, I promise. But I need to know,” he said. There was a note of desperation in his voice that he didn’t like at all, but it seemed to do the trick.

“It’s Felix. Sylvain is in love with him. But their fathers…”

Claude nodded as he rode high on a wave of relief. If Marianne was right, Sylvain would never be a serious suitor, and that was the best news he’d gotten since Lady Rhea had informed them that Teach had chosen to lead their house.

“Thank you, Marianne,” he said earnestly.

She regarded him with her quiet, serious eyes for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” she said. Her voice was soft and sad, and he started a little.

“Sorry for what?” he asked.

“Sorry that she’s a professor and you’re a student. And sorry that you have great things to accomplish, since it doesn’t leave you much time for anything like love.”

He smiled at her automatically, a wide friendly grin that did nothing to reflect the pang her words had caused to reverberate through him. “It’s nothing like that. I need Teach, that’s all, and if Sylvain was going to become a distraction, I needed to know.”

Marianne nodded and he left her in peace, but he knew she hadn’t believed a word.

* * *

As if Sylvain wasn’t bad enough, the week before the ball, Claude began to notice that _Lorenz _was fawning over the professor too. It would have been amusing—_should_ have been amusing—but instead Claude observed it all with twisted insides. And Hilda was no help: she was delighted with watching Lorenz fall all over himself to win Teach’s favor.

“You have to admit,” she said with a laugh as they watched him wax poetic about all of Byleth’s exceptional traits, “he’s grown up a little if he’s wooing the professor. I never thought I’d see him work so hard to win the favor of a mere commoner.”

Claude forced himself to chuckle. “Wonders never cease,” he agreed. They were standing in a warm patch of sunshine just outside the classroom, and Lorenz and the professor were a few yards away. The nobleman’s son kept trying to extol her to come into the shade and protect her fair skin, but so far Byleth had refused.

Hilda glanced at him speculatively. Then she shot him a coy grin. “Got a date for the ball yet?”

Claude lifted his gaze to the sky and clasped his hands behind his head. “Nah. I don’t think I’m going to ask anyone. Easier to slip out early that way.”

“You’re going to have to get used to these fancy parties when you’re the reigning duke of Leicester, you know,” Hilda pointed out.

“All the more reason to escape while I can. What about you?”

Hilda’s face was triumphant. “Petra. I bet she’s a wildcat, I can’t wait to find out.”

In spite of himself, Claude laughed. “You’re worse than Sylvain, you know that?”

“Can I help it if I’m _wayyy _better at picking up girls than he is?” She winked at him and then sobered a little. “Honestly, I want to know more about her, and about Brigid. Plus, she must be feeling homesick, so hopefully I can help her have a good time.”

He smiled down at her. “You’re a sweet girl, Hilda,” he said. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Don’t go letting that get out,” she told him. “I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

* * *

The night of the ball arrived, and Claude followed behind Edelgard and Dimitri into the reception hall. The huge room was warmly lit by hundreds of candles, and the soft light glinted off of the crystal chandeliers far above them. The effect was beautiful, as were the tapestries and flower garlands that decorated the walls. The Prince and Imperial Princess were whispering to each other, but Claude ignored them. He hadn’t asked anyone to accompany him to the dance, but that didn’t bother him much. He’d be able to make his way through the crowd, to work his charm on those that could help him reach his goals. It would have been much harder to network if he’d had a date.

Still, it was a lovely evening, and the high spirits of everyone in the room were contagious.

He smiled when he spotted Leonie trying to teach Raphael some of the steps to the fancy Imperial waltz that would open the ball, and Ignatz and Marianne looked rather cozy in a candlelit corner. Even Lorenz seemed to be less obnoxious than usual: if he _had_ been his normal self, Dorothea probably would have thrown her drink in his face by now.

Ingrid, Felix and Sylvain hovered at the edge of the dance floor with their drinks, while Ferdinand bowed low to a flushed but happy Annette. Flayn was soothing Bernadetta’s fears, and Lysithea looked uncharacteristically joyful as she and Mercedes whispered to each other near the punch.

A moment later, Manuela reeled into him, her cheeks flushed. She’d obviously been at the champagne long before this little shindig had kicked off, and she flashed Claude a leering smile.

“Has anyone told you that you have _stunning _eyes?” she asked, her words a little blurry. She leaned close enough that her chest was brushing his arm. A lot of the guys at the Academy would have loved to be in his shoes at that exact moment, but the only thing he felt about this flagrant proposition was discomfort. In order to put some distance between them without offending her or causing a scene, he stepped back and bowed to her.

“Thank you, Professor,” he replied with a charming—but empty—smile. “You look lovely as well.”

She opened her mouth to reply, already lurching toward him again, just as Seteth swooped down on them.

“Come along, Manuela…Lady Rhea is asking for you,” he said. Claude shot him a grateful look as they walked away and breathed out a long sigh of relief when they were out of earshot.

“Do you have that effect on all the ladies?” asked an amused voice. Claude’s head snapped around and his mouth dropped open for a second when he spotted Byleth beside him, looking after Manuela.

“_Teach,_” he replied, his expression of surprise turning into a wolfishly delighted smile, “did you just make a _joke? _Color me impressed.”

“I’ve been practicing,” she replied, perfectly deadpan, and his laugh rang through the room. The urge to hug her was so strong that his hands flexed, but somehow he managed to avoid embarrassing himself in front of the entire student body.

“I can see that,” he said, still chuckling. He winked at her. “I hope you have a great time tonight, Teach.”

She smiled up at him and the monastery could have come down around his ears without him noticing. Then, with a small wave, she walked off to join Ignatz and Marianne, and Claude thought: _Oh, shit._

He wasn’t sure ‘like’ was the right word anymore.

A weird mix of euphoria and terror flooded him all through Lady Rhea’s welcoming remarks. After she formally opened the ball and blessed them in the name of Sothis, the band struck up a formal waltz. Edelgard and Dimitri sprung up to do their duties, each leading a partner onto the dance floor for the first dance. Claude knew he should get out there too, but he was still feeling as though he couldn’t quite find the ground with his feet.

_Well, I’m doomed already. I may as well torture myself while I’m at it, _he thought. Then he turned, caught sight of Byleth in the watching crowd, and headed her way. He caught her hand with a wink and a bow, and then spun her gently onto the dance floor.

Neither of them really excelled at the steady, formal steps of the dance, and her cheeks flushed with the knowledge that they were making a mockery of its graceful etiquette, but before long the both of them were giggling like naughty children every time Edelgard or Dimitri shot them a disapproving look.

“I’m terrible at this,” Byleth admitted.

“You had to have _one_ weakness, Teach.” He squeezed her hand. “Besides, you’re not doing too bad. All my toes are still intact.”

She eyed him, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched, von Riegan.” Then she pressed down on his toes with her foot, gentle but firm, and he laughed again.

“I see I have been a _terrible_ influence on you, Teach.”

She gave him a perfectly innocent smile in return, and yeah, he was a goner but how could he not be when she looked at him like that?

The song drifted to a close and he spun her to a stop, then dropped into a bow with a playful flourish. She smiled at him once more and thanked him before they separated, each heading to opposite sides of the ballroom. He led another couple of students to the dance floor, but his heart wasn’t really in it. His thoughts were too full of Byleth.

After about an hour, Claude found that the room was too hot, too crowded, too loud. He wanted to be alone so he could work out just what the hell he was supposed to do with this inconvenient-as-hell crush he was harboring. More to the point, he needed to figure out how he was going to deal with it before Hilda started interrogating him. Because she _was _going to interrogate him, just as soon as she managed to get him good and cornered.

He slipped out of the ball room before that could happen. His eyes swept past the Goddess Tower. Then they stopped and went back, lingering on the stained glass windows.

He wasn’t the superstitious type, but he felt a tug as he stared at the building. He gave into the urge with a mental shrug and let his feet carry him in that direction. Perhaps fate had plans for him tonight.

* * *

He hadn’t been completely honest with Byleth about his prayer during their interlude at the Goddess Tower that night. Well, he’d prayed for their dreams to come true—he hadn’t lied about that. But he’d added another, private prayer. Really more of a wish, something he could barely whisper in the privacy of his mind, much less voice aloud to a goddess he didn’t wholly believe in.

He’d wished, of course, for _her._

Events spiraled rapidly out of control after that, but he held on to the memory of that night. It kept him going, even during the endless grim days of her absence.

* * *

When Jeralt died and Byleth…_changed…_Claude knew that time was up. Though Solon and his plans remained a mystery, Edelgard’s aggression was something he _had_ anticipated. The assault on Garreg Mach had come sooner than expected but capturing the physical and religious heart of Fódlan was essential for an Imperial victory. There had never been a doubt that at some point the monastery would be a target.

“If only she had waited until we’d graduated,” Claude muttered to himself. He was cut off from his power base, as was Dimitri. The lords of Leicester would be slow to rouse themselves, even for the Duke’s heir, and Almyran help was even further away. And many of the Kingdom’s Crest-bearing heirs were now trapped at the Officers Academy as well, serving as insurance against aggression from that front. It was a genius move, neutralizing any nobles that might have otherwise retaliated against the Empire quickly.

“Our only chance is to break out, even if it means abandoning Garreg Mach to the Emperor,” he said louder, speaking to the Deer gathered around him. Byleth shook her head.

“Lady Rhea won’t surrender this place,” she told him.

“We can’t hope to hold it, and if we’re to muster any sort of resistance, we need to get out of here so we don’t become Imperial hostages. We can always retake it later, when we have enough support. Lady Rhea may have chosen this hill to die on, but this is far from our last battle.” His eyes ran over his classmates, all looking shell-shocked and afraid but determined, and he felt a rush of pride in them. Even Lorenz seemed prepared to fight with him, at least for now.

“My friend.” His eyes lingered on Byleth. “I need to get back to Leicester before the nobles tear it apart in their fear and leave it wide open for invasion. Will you help me?”

Her now shockingly green eyes were still raw with grief for her father, but her expression was grave and determined as she nodded. He gave her a small, genuine smile, softer than his usual ones and full of grateful affection.

“Thank you. With you fighting with us, I know we have a chance.”

“We should talk to the Blue Lions,” Leonie said. She sounded exhilarated by the chance to prove her hard-won skills against the Imperial army. “Prince Dimitri might be open to working together, at least until we free ourselves from the monastery.”

Claude nodded and looked to Ignatz and Hilda. “Have a word with him. I’m sure he’s just as determined to escape this trap as I am.”

Lorenz cleared his throat. “When petitioning the prince, would it not make sense to send your highest-ranking noble—?”

“No.” Claude’s eyes cut to him. “I want you to approach Ferdinand. His family has lost everything, so there’s a chance he’ll welcome the opportunity to fight back. He may be able to convince some of the other Black Eagles to leaves as well. If some of the Imperial heirlings are on our side, their parents may not throw their support behind the Emperor.”

“And me?” Byleth asked, capturing his attention once more.

“You, my friend, must lead the battle. If word gets out that you have become an enemy of the Empire, I know many would hesitate to raise arms against you.”

She nodded again. Whatever he asked of her, she always stood ready. Ever since he’d confessed his dearest ambitions to her—no, even before that—she had offered him her unwavering support. Once again, she accepted her role in his schemes without argument, lent him her considerable power without asking for anything in return.m

He forced himself to look away from her so he could address the entire group. “We should all prepare our weapons and try to rest up. I doubt Emperor Edelgard will wait very long to begin her assault. Be ready.”

* * *

The battle came not long after. Never in a million years had Claude thought that Byleth would fall, but fall she did: right off of a crumbling cliff.

He searched for her. When he couldn’t find her near the monastery, he sent his Deer further and further afield to see if they could find any sign of her. Eventually, he had to let them return to their homes, to help defend their lands against the threat of the Empire. When half the Kingdom fell, it was everything he could do to keep Leicester together. So many had begun to feel that Imperial rule was the inevitable conclusion of this conflict…the struggle only grew harder as the months turned into years.

But though his searches had been in vain, he never let her go in his heart. Somehow, somewhere, he knew Byleth was alive. They would be together again. They _would_ have their new dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of things: Marianne is bi, which causes her some pain and confusion before the time-skip, but her confidence in who she is will be much stronger after the skip. Just didn't want this chapter to confuse anyone wondering about the Ignatz/Marianne mentions when the story is tagged with Hilda/Marianne.
> 
> Also, I know that the assault at Garreg Mach was supposed to be an epic defense by a bunch of knights and students that loved their temporary home away from home and wanted to protect it, but I preferred to infer that the reason the students stayed to fight was because they knew they couldn't make it past the Imperial Army to their homes on their own. And it DID seem like a smart move for Edelgard to take as many of the academy's students hostage as possible before the war truly got going.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! There were things I wanted to get more into, like Jeralt's death, but I decided to save that for a different story. The next chapter(s?) will be post time-skip! I'm not done writing it (mostly because I'm still doing my second playthrough of the GD route so that I get the details right).


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